


Aozora Clubbing Heart

by C_Inferno



Series: LLS! College AU [1]
Category: Love Live! School Idol Project, Love Live! Sunshine!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-26
Updated: 2017-06-26
Packaged: 2018-11-19 09:09:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11310237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/C_Inferno/pseuds/C_Inferno
Summary: Mari and Kanan invite everyone to go out clubbing, which hasn’t happened since Kanan and Mari got them all kicked out of and banned from a club for drunk and disorderly conduct. It’s going to be a very wild night.  Everyone is thirsty and not just for alcohol.





	1. Dia is Not a Furry

**Author's Note:**

> College AU so everyone is aged up appropriately! Also, it's written in multiple POVs each separated by -

Ruby isn’t sure why Dia insists on tagging along. These kinds of events are usually beneath her, and she’s already promised not to drink. As the youngest, she’s used to being the DD and Ruby doesn’t particularly care for drinking anyways.

“It’s not fair for you to have to babysit seven unruly drunks,” Dia affirms, but Ruby knows her sister well enough to pick up on when she secretly wants to do something. Dia visibly shudders. “And besides, the last time we were all together you saw things you should never have to see.” This was also true.

“Mari and Kanan apologized already. They even promised that the club we’re going to doesn’t allow table-dancing.”

“That will only encourage Mari.”

“It’s ok if you want to come, sis, but you shouldn’t worry so much.”

“That you say that makes question your judgement.”

Ruby smiles and doesn’t try to mask her joy that Dia, despite having plenty of school work, is adamant on going. The two of them haven’t gone out much together since Dia was always busy with either work or school. She goes out a lot with Chika and You by themselves, but it’s a whole different beast when all nine of them are together. Apart from July’s Table-Dancing Extravaganza, those kinds of outings make her incredibly happy to have as many crazy friends as she does and being able to share that with her sister warms her to her toes.

“Well, if you’re ready, sis, let’s go ahead and pick up Hanamaru.”

“Does she ever plan on getting her own car?”

“This arrangement is fine. It’s safer, isn’t it?”

“Absolutely. I only meant that it’s weird that she’s almost 22 and doesn’t have a car.”

“She’s terrified of cars,” Ruby says with a light giggle, remembering how the girl in question would hang onto her whenever cars passed them on the sidewalk. Hanamaru likened them to metal death traps.

“You have bizarre friends.”

“They’re your friends too, Dia.”

–

Hanamaru waits expectantly on the bench just outside her dorm. She fidgets relentlessly with her skirt, wondering if it would’ve been better to just wear pants or even shorts. She wishes that it shouldn’t matter how cute she looks, but since Ruby had informed her last minute that Dia was coming, all of a sudden it became imperative that she looked adorable. The skirt itself is pretty form fitting, which seems appropriate because it will be less likely to catch on things like the car door and nearly come all the way off and—when will she ever move past that night? Her face flushes. At least her underwear got complimented.

Ruby pulls up just as Hanamaru reaches for her phone, lightly tapping the horn even though Hanamaru can see her and makes her jump. Even from the bench she can make out Ruby’s features and how hard she’s laughing at Hanamaru’s very well communicated phobias.

“You’re not funny, zura,” she bemoans as she crawls into the car.

“It was a little funny,” Dia replies and Hanamaru is only too glad to be in the backseat where Dia can’t see how red her face is becoming.

“You look cute, Maru!” Ruby says immediately. “I’m almost too distracted to drive!”

“Please don’t joke like that while I’m in the car.”

“But don’t you think she looks cute, Dia?”

Hanamaru wants Ruby to stop. Badly. As she contemplates kicking the back of the seat, Dia apparently decides that furthering Hanamaru’s desire to vanish is a perfectly acceptable way to expend energy.

“Yes, that outfit does look good on her. It definitely enhances your features, Hanamaru.”

Hanamaru’s face heats to a broil. She wants to throw compliments at Dia’s face but worries that such hurried word-vomit will haunt her for the rest of her life and chooses to direct her attention at Ruby. “W-well I’m not as cute as Ruby!”

“Please don’t make her swerve off the road. My blood pressure is high enough knowing Kanan and Mari are anywhere near alcohol.”

She can’t help but remember when the entire group of nine had last gotten together. Her memory is understandably hazy, but in the brief flashes between black outs Hanamaru remembers loud music, inappropriate touching, exposed breasts and a lot of shouting.

“What about You and Chika?” she asks, thinking it odd that Dia would be more concerned with Kanan and Mari’s predictably homoerotic behavior than two actual drunken shitlords. “They were pretty awful by themselves until Mari climbed onto that table.”

“There it goes.”

“There what goes?”

“My blood pressure.”

–

Kanan and Mari arrive first, as per usual. It’s not very late in the night, so Kanan isn’t surprised that the club is somewhat vacant. Mari hurries her along, absolutely beaming and a little wobbly from her pre-gaming attempts. Why a girl who already has no tolerance for alcohol should drink before going out for the express purpose of drinking is lost on Kanan. American idiosyncrasies. She’d never understand them.

While loose in her own mind, wondering how long it will be before someone a little less insane arrives, Mari slaps her shoulder. The girl’s nose crinkles from her smile and Kanan tries to keep herself from falling in love with this irresistibly goofy blonde all over again. So far her efforts are fruitless and her heart flutters when Mari offers her hand.

“Dance with me, Kanan! While I have you all to myself!”

Kanan happily obliges, keeping a hesitant pace at first in a weak effort to avoid attracting attention. That notion flies right out the window when Mari backs herself right into Kanan’s crotch and begins a steady grind. Without really even thinking about it, because at this point she’s just trying to keep from turning Dia’s list of banned public activities into a checklist, she grabs hold of Mari’s hips and starts moving accordingly. The music isn’t loud enough that she can’t hear Mari’s drunk giggles and suddenly she wants to do more with Mari than just dance.

She doesn’t notice Chika standing right behind her, arms folded in front of her and bearing a smug look. “Wow, that’s pretty gay, Kanan.”

Kanan doesn’t miss a beat. “You’re just jealous because Riko doesn’t have an ass like this.” She hadn’t realized until she stopped and actually turned around that Chika wasn’t the only one there. Riko’s smile crackles with electricity, but Kanan knows she’s already deep in her own grave and accepts her fall with dignity. “I stand by my statement.”

Chika feigns an appalled gasp. “Bro!” She throws her hands out dramatically. “You better apologize. Everyone knows you don’t disrespect a dude’s girlfriend!”

You approaches in time to offer her own two cents. “Yeah, Kanan what the fuck. Just because your girlfriend is every teenage lesbian’s wet dream doesn’t mean you get to talk down the rest of us.” You is wearing that ridiculous ‘Female Body Inspector’ Snapback that Kanan hates and in spite of her first inclination to rip it right off her head, she hooks her arm around Mari’s waist and stands a little taller. You balances four beers precariously between her hands, grinning wildly even though she’s supposed to be offended as she divvies them up among herself, Chika, Riko, and a disgusted-looking Yoshiko.

“It’s not even 10 and you’re already trying to whip it out in public, Kanan? Really? Think of the children,” she finishes as she grabs a less than amused Riko’s arm.

“Kanaaaaan,” Mari whines, amazing everyone with her silence thus far. “I really wanted to dance with you.”

“Holy shit, are you already drunk, Mari?” Chika exclaimed. “You, did you bring the funnel? We’re not losing to Tits Mcgee!”

Mari laughs, probably louder than intended. “You guys do not compare to how Americans party. I haven’t seen a single glow stick and honestly I’m disappointed.”

Chika snickers. “Hey, Mari, let me take you out back and I’ll show you my glow stick.” You high-fives Chika at the exact same time Kanan stabs her with her eyes.

“Riko, control your girlfriend,” Kanan implores.

“I don’t know, apparently she’s more interested in your girlfriend. She’s jealous or something, remember?”

“That’s ice cold, Riko, but I respect it.”

–

“Has anyone heard from Ruby and Hanamaru?” Riko asks, looking around. She’s missing the moral support of the two least horrible members of their circle. Not that she minds Chika’s company, which she hopes to hoard entirely, but the collective amount of brain cells in the club is disconcerting.

“Yeah,” Chika answers, putting her arm around Riko and pulling her close in one of those competitive forms of bravado she parades whenever Kanan and Mari together. Riko loves her simplicity. She doesn’t love the intense stench of Axe body spray. “She’s on her way, but she’s bringing the fun police.”

“Ew, why?” You is already finished with her beer and eyes Yoshiko’s greedily, and it doesn’t take many bats of her eyelashes before she’s awarded with what she wants. She’s ordered to return with more.

“It doesn’t surprise me,” Kanan sighs. “Dia is a fucking lioness when it comes to protecting her sister.”

“Ah, yes!” Riko understands this reference, actually, thanks to the forced viewing of the source film with Chika a few nights ago. She eagerly pounces on a chance to feel witty. “A lioness protects her cub!”

She doesn’t understand the judgement shooting out of Kanan’s lilac eyes. “Did you…really just quote Secondhand Lions?”

“I-isn’t that what you were going for?”

“No, I was going for Dia being an actual lioness that will rip your face off and shit out your bones.”

“Fucking furry.”

“Shut up, Chika.”

–

Dia expected to walk in on a group conversation about her. She slaps on her angry eyes the moment they enter the club, the crowd parting before her like the Red Sea as she passes through. She prepares divine retribution.

“Sis.” She feels Ruby’s small hands wrap around her arms. Those little puppy dog eyes can get her to do pretty much anything and they both know it. “Please don’t go off like you did last time.” The quiet in Ruby’s voice makes Dia feel a twang of guilt, but remembering just what Kanan and Mari had done to earn her fierce reprimands sends it away. She decides, though, to leave Armageddon for another day.

“I’m not a furry,” she hisses through her teeth.

“Yeah, she’s not a furry,” Ruby adds in a soft, but stern voice. Dia loves her sister so much.

Hanamaru approaches last, still huffing from the exhausting endeavor of trying to match Dia’s strides with such short legs. “Hi, everyone!”

Riko is the most excited for their arrival. She leaps onto Hanamaru and pulls her into a hug, and Dia doesn’t strain her ears very hard to hear a desperate “help me”. Riko is tolerable, but Dia is quick to count heads for the rest of the degenerates. She sees Chika first, slouching of course with You at her side, then Yoshiko, then Kanan, and then…

“Where is Mari?”

“What do you mean, where’s M—

Kanan is genuinely shocked that Mari isn’t attached to her hip and Dia can’t believe she hadn’t walk in on them acting out some form of softcore pornography. She watches amusedly as Kanan turns her head this way and that in frantic sweeps, but by now the club is filling with people making even a tall tuft of blonde hair difficult to discern.

“I have to go find her,” Kanan husks. “She’s the worst combination of excited, horny, and rich.”

“Isn’t that how she is all the time?”

“You’re not helping, Yoshiko!”

She turns on her heels and pushes for the bar, the most likely place for Mari to be. Dia relaxes her shoulders and turns to the remainder of the group.

“So how has everyone been?” she asks, but she’s inadvertently distracted by You’s hat. She stops herself from commenting, because she’s not willing to risk embarrassing her sister by burning a piece of clothing in the middle of a club parking lot.

“Pretty awesome, actually,” You is quick to assert. “I bench pressed 220 yesterday.” Dia remembers You’s sports scholarship and asks how that’s been working for her. Her answer is in the physique shown off by a tight, grey tank top and orange Chubbies. You flaunts her muscles and Dia thinks for a second that she’s almost attractive, but You opens her mouth again. “You should come with me next time I go to the gym, Dia. We can get hot, dirty, and sweaty…and then work out afterwards.”

“Why are you like this?”

“Honestly, I think it’s because I’m trying to find validation in living up to my own stereotype.”

“What?”

“Let’s get wasted.”

“What is happening?”

“Come on, Dia, you obviously came out to have a good time. Don’t be so uptight. Have a few drinks, dance a little bit. There’s plenty of people here, you’re bound to bump into somebody you like.”

“And if you don’t like anybody, have a few more drinks and try again,” Yoshiko says all too confidently. “Now go, be free! Get out there and seize the jugular of your next lay.”

“Metaphorically?” Hanamaru asks.

“Literally.”

Irked, Dia turns towards her sister and places her hands on her shoulders. “Ruby, I’m going to get a drink. Will you be ok with me leaving you by yourself?”

Ruby nods. “I’ll be fine! Besides, I have Hanamaru with me. Have fun and be safe!”

“I should be telling you that,” Dia says with a laugh and she pretends not to hear You yelling at them to get a room. She hugs her sister and heads into the crowd. She won’t admit that she is in fact looking for a jugular to seize—well in not so many words. Or any of those words at all. Dia has been single long enough and she sets her mind on leaving the club tonight with a date. Thinking of Mari and Kanan dry humping each other during every social function only fuels the fires of her determination.

–

She’s not drunk enough. Mari slams her hand on the bar table and demands a shot of something. When it doesn’t arrive immediately, she fishes a 10,000 yen bill from her purse and smashes it on the table. Shots appear and she downs them all, gritting her teeth as the taste fills her mouth.

“Stupid Kanan,” she snarls. Mari feels hands wrap around her waist. “Stupid Kanan.”

“Hey, hey, what did I do wrong?” Kanan asks, nuzzling into the crook of Mari’s neck. Mari doesn’t fight the embrace, but won’t acknowledge her girlfriend. Kanan pokes her cheek. “Mariiiii.” Her singsongy voice is cute enough that she struggles to stay angry. “You’re being unreasonable.”

“I wanted to daaaance.” Mari pouts into a shot glass and Kanan chuckles. “Don’t you dare laugh at me, Kanan. I will end you.”

“Mari, I have to help you get the lid off the pickle jar.”

“I will pay someone to end you.”

Now Kanan’s chuckling has evolved into full-blown guffaws and Mari feels her cheeks heat up, but blames the alcohol. Kanan’s grip on her tightens. “Hey, beautiful. Dance with me.”

“Hang on, I just bought like, twelve shots.”

“Was cirrhosis part of your agenda for tonight?”

“I don’t know Kanan, was ignoring me in favor of your stupid BROTP part of your agenda?”

“Aww, I’m sorry I made you feel like that. Here, let me help you with those shots and we can hit the dance floor. I’d like to continue where we left off.” Kanan’s grin is wolfish and Mari can’t argue with how badly she wants Kanan’s hands all over her, but smacks these very hands away as they reach for the shots.

“Get away, you gold digger. These are mine.”

“Jesus H. Christ, Mari are you really going to drink all of those?”

“Don’t take the Lord’s name in vain, Kanan. Jesus gifted me with the money to buy all these shots and he will damn sure gift me with the ability to drink them all.”

“I don’t care how much you want to party with Jesus, I’m not letting you demolish a perfectly good liver.”

“Come and get them.”

–

You has a clear view from where she’s standing that Kanan has successfully located her errant girlfriend and Mari expresses her gratitude with open mouth kisses. Tongue kisses. Dia has already gone on and not a moment too soon, because now Kanan is sitting in Mari’s lap, hungrily pawing at her like a cat with a ball of yarn.

“Well, Kanan’s gonna be busy for the rest of the night.” You waits for Chika’s commentary, but when she looks she sees that Chika is wrapping her arms around Riko and nuzzling into her. You lets her remarks fall flat and tries not to put on a jealous grimace but ends up making it anyway. “Come on, do you really have to do that? Right here?”

“Riko’s feeling lonely,” Chika purrs, but You isn’t amused. Chika peppers Riko’s neck with light kisses and then hikes Riko’s leg up over her hip. “Not on my watch. And Dolphin Bieber doesn’t know what she’s talking about! You’ve got a beautiful ass, baby.”

“Your responsibility to your girlfriend is great and all, but it’s scaring Ruby and Hanamaru.”

“I don’t mind,” Hanamaru says, a little more interested in their romantic display than she should be.

Regardless, You shoos the two lovebirds away. “Go find a wall to ram her against or something.”

Riko’s already breathing hard and the lust in her eyes speaks loud and clear. Riko often pretended that she wasn’t a complete thirst-machine, but it didn’t take a genius to see through that sham. You doesn’t work hard to imagine the scenario playing out in Riko’s head. It’s on her face as plainly as if they were acting it out right there. Chika, boasting a frisky grin, tugs at Riko’s arms and they disappear into the club. Probably to a wall. You doesn’t care anymore.

“So what about you guys?” She directs her question towards Ruby and Hanamaru, banking on Yoshiko still wanting to hang out with her. “Ruby, you’re not drinking so I expect Hanamaru to drink twice as much in your honor.” Hanamaru lifts her hand to her forehead and gives You a mock salute, which You returns in earnest. “At ease, sailor. I trust you’re going to take good care of Ruby?”

“You can count on it!”

“Ruby!” You waits for a startled squeak and continues. “As my protégée I want you to have the best night ever. Challenge mode: no alcohol. Can you handle it?”

“I’ll give it my Rubesty!” The tiny fists she pumps into the air nearly bring a tear to You’s eyes. As long as they’ve known each other, Ruby has never liked drinking and that is perfectly fine. She readily tags along whenever You and Chika go out and always has a great time. You’s confident that tonight will be no different. She doesn’t miss the sideways glances Hanamaru and Ruby are giving each other and figures it’s best that she frees them do their own thing.

“Alright, you two go have the night of your lives.”

Hanamaru dips her head respectfully and in a heartbeat she and Ruby are holding hands and heading straight for the bar. You wagers that the next time they bump into each other, Hanamaru will mostly likely be red-faced and in the middle of a terribly important astronomical sermon. You makes a mental note to avoid Hanamaru like the plague.

“Well, Yoshiko, it’s just you and me now. Wanna get weird?”

Yoshiko grimaces, but in the way she always does when she’s trying not to smile. “You’re an animal.”

“Why don’t we talk about my animalistic tendencies over another round of beer?”

“Only if you’re buying.”

You smirks, but she can’t stop thinking of Chika and Riko. She groans internally, tired of the persistent grossness bubbling in her stomach. She wants to drown it in alcohol. She’s determined to get so drunk that she can’t spell her own name, much less suffer the aggravation that’s steadily creeping up her throat and into her mouth. Yoshiko is still with her. Maybe she can salvage the night. Or at least keep it from sucking ass.

–

Success. They find a wall that’s not crawling with bystanders and Chika pushes Riko against it, as per You’s suggestion. Riko giggles as she tries not to spill her martini. “Chika, let me drink this at least.” Chika pins her easily, having already downed her last couple beers. Riko watches her intently as brings the martini glass to her lips, drinking it slowly and—ok, she was too cute. Chika couldn’t stand it.

Chika drops her shoulders as she heaves an irritated sigh. “Why didn’t you get a shot? How am I supposed to tend to you if you’re busy Double-O-Sevening?”

“Sorry! It was an impulse decision,” Riko hums as she takes a sip, but she keeps snorting into the glass ungracefully as Chika glares at her. “Ok, seriously, stop making me laugh I’m trying to drink this.”

“I can’t believe this. I get us a nice secluded spot along the wall—and I mean prime real-estate—and you’re just gonna stand there and drink your martini.”

“Yes.”

“Ok, that’s fair. You enjoy your drink, Riko, and I’ll keep you company.” Chika shimmies between Riko and a polite stranger who is much too concerned with their own circle of events to pay the two any mind.

“Thank you,” Riko says from her martini, which she’s not even halfway through with. Frankly, Chika’s fine with how things are at the moment, because she is absolutely taken aback by how Riko glows beneath the club lights. Her eyes, her jewelry, the gloss on her lips—it all comes alive as the strobes flicker over them. Chika fawns over how elegant Riko makes leaning against a dirty club wall look and she traces her features like an artist might their subjects, hovering for a moment over that punishingly half-full martini glass.

“What does that taste like?” Chika asks, curious because she’s really only had beer, Jägerbombs, Fireballs and that one weird concoction You had given her with like, six different alcohols in it. Riko swirls the drink in her hands for a moment before passing it to Chika, but she is dissatisfied with just trying it. She leans in smooth, silky, and brushes her mouth over Riko’s and tastes what is probably the nastiest drink she’s ever had. Her face scrunches as she’s overpowered by bitterness, pine needles and regret. Riko is beside herself, of course.

“Can’t handle it, hoss?”

“What the fuck is in there?”

“Gin. Vodka. Lillet. Oh, and they threw a lemon peel in there too!”

“The worst part of the whole lemon…”

“But it complements the different alcohols so nicely! Are you sure you don’t want to try it outright?” Riko again offers the glass and Chika’s stomach flips.

“Dude, no thanks. I got a whiff of that gin and I’m out. I can’t do gin. Not after…” She winces as the painful memory of spending an entire Saturday puking in the bathroom comes back. She didn’t know how, but somehow she also pinched a nerve in her back while being bedbound for the day, which led for a very painful month of recovery. After that horrifying experience, she’d almost sworn off booze entirely, but she settled for just never looking at gin again.

“Does that mean you…don’t want to kiss again?” Even in the dim ambience of the club, Chika can see Riko fidgeting. She holds her martini close to her chest, close to nearly half of it.

“Girl,” Chika begins in a honeysweet tenor, “you could have a mouth full of bees and I’d still wanna kiss you. I mean, I might try to get rid of the bees first, but yeah.”

Chika loves the way Riko’s shoulders bounce when she laughs and even more that she’s responsible for such sweet, contented expressions. Beyond all the kissing and wall-domming and hungry touching, she will never love anything more than Riko’s smile. She leans in again, this time slowly, and they kiss a little deeper. Chika fights the taste of gin on her tongue and is rewarded with a gentle moan.

Shifting to pin Riko to the wall again, Chika presses a knee between her legs and elates in the strangled sounds that she works out of Riko’s mouth. She parts their lips only so she can nibble at the tops of Riko’s ears. “Did you wear a dress hoping for this to happen?” Her breath must be hot on Riko’s neck, because the girl trembles as she speaks.

“Would it…matter if I did?”

“Well,” Chika says in her regular voice, pulling herself off of Riko completely, much to the latter girl’s dismay. Chika relishes the bewildered look in Riko’s eyes, her messy hair and the way her dress is crumpled up around her knees. “You finish that martini, ok? I’m gonna go grab another beer.”

“Chikaaa!” She hears Riko whine as she heads towards the bar.

–

If there’s a prize for rotten judgement, then she guesses she’s already won that. Her head is screaming get a grip, girl, but then You turns and they make eye contact and her brain turns to mush before she can start humming the tune of that insufferably accurate Disney song. They’re standing outside, probably because You is too annoyed with everybody to want to be anyplace that she can see them. The air is cool, albeit a little humid, but Yoshiko doesn’t hate it.

About an hour has passed since they’d arrived and by now, she’s a little too overt in her ogling. It’s hard to feel guilty about the special attention she’s giving You, because You refuses to remove that ridiculous FBI hat. She’s talking about her workout plans for the following week and how she’d like to try out a different blend of nutrition shake for her pre-workout fueling, but Yoshiko is struggling to pay attention with so many beers muddling up her cognitive functions.

Every so often You slicks her hair back, undoubtedly without the intention of seducing Yoshiko further but that’s the effect it has. Yoshiko curses her horrible, unshakable bad luck. Through all of her persistence, You has expressed zero interest in her and that is hell on her ego. As often as You complains about being single, it’s a kick in the teeth that Yoshiko isn’t even a candidate. In spite of the Promethean aspects of it, their sloppy, drunk make out sessions are enough to keep her coming back to the doomed romantic exploit again and again.

“Do you want another beer?” You’s directness startles her. As if realizing she’s caught Yoshiko in the middle of her thoughts, she repeats herself. “I’m gonna head back in, did you want anything?”

“Yeah, actually.” She’s got room for more drinks. She’s not buzzed enough that she’s lost awareness of her limit, because if that were the case then she wouldn’t be standing. What’s another drink going to do? Yoshiko opens her wallet, but before she can pull out a single bill, You stops her.

“Nah, I got this one.”

“You’ve bought every round so far,” Yoshiko says as she shoves the money at You. “Take it.”

“It’s ok. Look, I’ve been kind of a shithead all night.”

“Hey, don’t worry about it. I’m still having fun.”

“No you’re not, you’ve been entertaining my bullshit since we got here. I’m so focused on Chika and Kanan and been dragging you around with it. I’m keeping you from having a good time.”

Yoshiko is surprised that You is so vocal about her feelings. Her vexation over being the only single person among her friends has always been poorly hidden, but she’s never been bold enough to throw it out in the open. She’s not sure what she should do, but first she puts her wallet away. The weak smile that puts on You’s face makes her heart sink.

“I’ll go with you at least,” she offers and You accepts. Yoshiko follows behind her, ducking under You’s ungodly buff arm as she holds the door open for her. For being such a fuckboy, You’s attention to courtesy came as a shock from time to time. As she ran down the list of all that made You girlfriend material, she was momentarily jostled out of her fantasies when a hand grabbed her wrist out of the darkness.

Just as she bowed up in preparation for reprimanding whoever dared to lay their filthy hands on her—because really who just grabs somebody in a club in this day and age and expects not to get a firm ass-kicking—she heard a weird, somewhat slurred greeting from…

“Zuramaru?”

“Yoshiko!” Hanamaru peeped, and fully ignoring Yoshiko’s correction to Yohane, she gripped Yoshiko tighter. “I’m so glad I found you, Yoshiko!” she hiccupped between a few words and her breath reached Yoshiko’s nose despite the two arms’ lengths between them. Sweet Lucifer that girl could put away a drink.

“Where’s Ruby?” Yoshiko asked, scanning for who everyone agreed was the smaller girl’s keeper. No Ruby in sight. Unusual. Not good. Hanamaru’s hamster cheeks were bright red and the giggles she could somehow not contain worried Yoshiko. She should definitely not be away from Ruby.

“She went to the bathroom and I was instructed not to move, but it’s impossible not to move because the earth is constantly rotating so I figured there was no way me moving independently of the earth’s rotation would—

“Zuramaru, I need you to focus.”

She snorted. “I need you to stop being taller than me, but that’s not stopping you.” Hanamaru pushed into Yoshiko’s shoulder with a pointed finger. “How’s the weather up there, Hellboy?”

“Zuramaru!”

“Yoshi Island!”

“…what…?”

“Let me tell you about space.”

“Nooo!”


	2. Pour One Out for Ruby Kurosawa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everybody (except Ruby) is shit faced. The night is wild and everybody is lucky Dia is too busy to kill them all. Ruby cannot believe what’s happening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was probably the most fun I've ever had writing.

Dia spots a candidate. It’s hard to see well in the club and her beer goggles don’t exactly help, but she doesn’t need much help distinguishing breasts—her only real criteria.

She approaches smoothly, gracefully, working very hard at coordinating her legs and feet. It’s paying off, thank god. She doesn’t trip over herself as she gets close enough that the girl can hear her shy intonations.

“Hi.” Dia can feel her stomach creeping into her throat. The girl glances at Dia with pale blue eyes set afire by the club’s strobe lights. Her features are on point with Dia’s preferences and Dia is quick to admire her long blonde hair, like doll’s hair, left free to fall past her shoulders. She’s tall, but not imposingly so, and Dia guesses she’s probably a few years older than she is. “Are you having a good time?” Dia hopes she isn’t slurring or at the very least that this is actually going as smoothly as she thinks it is.

Tittering, the girl pulls her bangs behind her ears. Dia swoons. “The music is a little amateurish, but yeah, I’d say I’m having a good time. What about you, stranger?”

“Well, it’s gotten a lot better since I found you,” Dia says with a smile, but she hates herself for dropping such a lame line. She’s desperate.

“That’s a bit forward, don’t you think?” The words feel like a scythe in Dia’s gut.

“I-I’m sorry,” she stutters, trying to smooth the words out in her head. “You’re just…very pretty and I like to make my intentions clear. I hope I haven’t offended you.” Dia shrinks as the girl leans in a little, studying her like a cat would a fish.

“Don’t feel bad, I’m just teasing you. You seemed kind of rigid walking over here.”

A wave of relief washes over Dia. “I’m not usually so nervous,” she explains, thinking that flattery rarely fails. It’s definitely worth a shot.

“I like your honesty, though!” the girl adds. YES. “You don’t mess around, do you?”

Dia straightens her posture a bit and her smile returns. “I’ve been told I’m like a lioness.”

“Is that right?”

“But enough about me. Why don’t you tell me a little bit about yourself?”

The girl flutters her eyelashes, appearing very receptive so far to Dia’s advances and Dia’s hope begins to bubble. “What would you like to know?”

Her heart swells painfully. She can’t understand how it’s going so well. She considers the possibility that this girl could be straight, could be in a relationship, could be toying with Dia’s emotions or even that she is a mere manifestation of all of Dia’s unused sexual energy and that Dia is actually passed out at the bar table dreaming all of this.

“You’re not queerbating me, are you?” The words fall out of Dia’s mouth before she can stop them and the girl’s immediate guffaws are a death sentence. She had to move away. Start a new life. Raise a family of penguins and find a job that would pay well enough to put them through college. Why didn’t life have an undo button?

“You really go for the throat, don’t you? I’m not sure what you’re asking, but if it’s anything resembling ‘are you gay’ then yes, I’m gay.”

“Thank god. I’ve been waiting for you to tell me you’re straight or that—you don’t have a girlfriend, do you? Just pull the rug out from under me, you’re way too pretty to not even have a date.”

“Nope. That’s kind why I’m here, miss lioness. What about you?”

“Please. I’d be twice as eloquent if I wasn’t thinking off the ways I really want this to go over well. I’ve had enough to drink that this could all be an illusion. If this is, I do have to commend myself because you really are one of the prettiest girls I’ve ever seen.”

The girl leans further in and Dia is quickly aware of how close to each other they are. Her heart drums against her chest, outcompeting the bass that riddles through her body. Her fingers feather the side of Dia’s face as she brushes Dia’s hair behind her ear.

“Well, let’s try a few things so we can be sure I’m not an illusion.”

Oh fuck.

She pulls Dia in with delicate hands and slender fingers—like pianist fingers. They start a slow dance that’s tentative and offbeat to the music. This can’t be real.

“You’re pretty, too,” the girl says. “I saw you walk in but you were in such a hurry I didn’t have time to do anything.”

This definitely isn’t real. “This can’t be real.”

“Let me go ahead and take care of that.” The girl cups Dia’s face in her hands and kisses her gently.

Oh fuck.

–

She looks around to make sure Mari is still with her and Kanan finds her still happily hanging onto her arm like a cute, little honey—because of course Kanan was the darling. Kanan is several drinks down and as such, is becoming increasingly less focused and she blinks a few times. That doesn’t help. Mari is worse, but not by much. It took a lot more effort than she’d intended to steal enough shots from Mari to hopefully save her liver. Kanan needed that liver. Well, she didn’t need it. She needed Mari and Mari need that liver. No good deeds went unpunished though, and Kanan’s body lets her know.

“I need to go outside.”

Mari follows her all the way to the guard rails along the patio which she flings herself over and vomits. She feels Mari’s fingers comb through her long hair, pulling loose strands away from her face so she can puke in peace.

“Good thing Chika and You aren’t standing right next to you recording this.”

Kanan whips her head back over the railing to make sure those two are definitely not there, but among the people who had seen Kanan expel her stomach contents, Chika and You are not among them. Mari looks smug.

“It’s joke,” she says and Kanan kicks her thigh, trying to give her a Charlie Horse. It doesn’t work. “All better?”

“Hang on.” Kanan hurls herself over the railing and throws up once more. “Yeah, I’m…I’m good.” She pulls herself to a stand and leans nonchalantly against the metal bars. Kanan wipes her mouth with the back of her hand and finger-guns at Mari. “Hey, babe.”

“Alright you need to clean that dumpster out right now, you’re making me sick.”

“Oh, you didn’t wanna make out?” Kanan teases as she wraps her arms around Mari, sure to hold her punishingly close.

“EW! Get off of me, you savage!” Mari shrieks, shoving her palm into Kanan’s face. “Kanan Matsuura I will never let you touch my boobs again.”

Kanan immediately releases her captive. Mari is having none of her shit. “Hey, that could’ve been you if I didn’t save your thick ass from those shots.”

“You owe me like—fuck…I can’t do math right now, but you owe me a lot of money. I’m not running a charity.”

She pats her pockets dramatically. “Oh no, I seem to have lost my wallet. Is there any other way I can pay you back?” Kanan asks seductively, running her hand along her stomach and up over her breasts. “Anything?”

Mari looks smitten. “Well, I suppose if you were offering some of your private servi—aaAAHH! GROSS! GET OFF ME!” Kanan is suddenly shoved back into the rails. “EWEWEWEW I THINK IT TOUCHED ME!”

“WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?”

“YOU’VE GOT PUKE ON YOUR SHIRT!”

“FUCK!”

“GET AWAY FROM ME, HEATHEN!”

“NO, WAIT. I HAVE A SPARE SHIRT IN THE CAR. I CAN FIX THIS.”

“I SWEAR TO GOD, KANAN, AND AS JESUS’S NUMBER ONE FAN I AM ALLOWED TO SWEAR, IF YOU GOT PUKE ON ME WE’RE GETTING A DIVORCE.”

“WE’RE NOT EVEN MARRIED!”

“FOR FUCK’S SAKE, KANAN, STOP MAKING THIS ABOUT YOU!”

–

As the night goes on and the number of drinks consumed increases, You’s agitation becomes more and more difficult for her to disguise. Yoshiko is sure to never stray too far, and her own predatory observations make her stomach heavy with guilty. You’s behavior is predictable and Yoshiko knows she should feel bad for exploiting the situation, but she doesn’t stop.

You looks caught between frustration and trying to be happy that her friends have all found their matches while she has not. It hurts Yoshiko that, given all this pressure for You to find a girlfriend, You doesn’t even try to make a move on her. Just earlier You had made a pass at Dia, and right in front of her!

Yoshiko never liked to drink more than she could handle, but it didn’t sit well with her to leave You to demolish beer after beer by herself. Yoshiko is barely able to keep up with You’s mad pace, but she thinks she’s doing ok. Besides, her reward is not far from reach.

“How are you feeling?” she asks, hoping to make herself more noticeable. When You looks at her, Yoshiko can feel a pit form in her stomach. You is surprisingly sensitive when she’s by herself. She must be aware of her inability to hide it now, or maybe the alcohol has loosened her lips, but You lays her jealously out in the open.

“It affects me too. I’m out here trying to enjoy myself and my best friends are both wrist deep in their girlfriends. Chika’s had Riko over almost every night this week and she’s killing me. Chika looks at me and I can see in her eyes that she wants my approval and Riko is such a great girl and I can’t fucking stand how much Chika wants me to be happy for her. Of course I’m happy for her! That girl is the most family I’ve ever had—I’d take a bullet for that girl! I just feel…left behind.”

Yoshiko isn’t sure what to say. This part she wasn’t expecting, and she thinks it serves her right. She doesn’t try to speak.

“Ugh, look. There they are—Chika trying to fucking impregnate Riko through sheer willpower.” Before Yoshiko can even look, You grabs her wrist and yanks her over like a misbehaved child. Their lips meet hard and it’s all that Yoshiko has been waiting for, but when they break apart she remains unfulfilled. “I’m sorry.” You’s apology is new. Yoshiko touches her lips. It feels different than usual. The bad kind of different.

“You…”

“I’m so scummy. I wait until we’ve drank so much that we can blame beer for all this shit. When you’re drunk enough that you drop your standards enough to let me do this.”

“Listen, I—wait a minute. Wait. What standards?” Yoshiko certainly has standards, but she’d eat them if it meant getting to bang You.

“I know I try and play our hookups off on booze, but I’ve always sort of liked you.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Hey, easy. I know I’m drunk but I’ve still got feelings.”

Yoshiko is a bizarre mixture of relieved, sympathetic, and pissed off. “Ok, I’m mostly lucid through all of the times we’ve made out and I can kind of remember that one time in the back of Dia’s car. This whole time I thought you were only interested in me when you were too drunk to care.”

You seems hurt. “No, it’s because I think you’re too drunk to care.”

“What the pentagram-flinging fuck. I’ve been trying to get you interested in me since we met, You!”

“But I thought you goth girls hated jocks. Isn’t that a sacred part of you guys’ whole gospel?”

“It’s a lifestyle, not a cult,” Yoshiko jeers. “Ok, so maybe it’s kind of like a cult, but nowhere is there a law that says I can’t find a varsity asshole attractive.”

“Aw, that’s the sweetest thing anybody has ever said to me.”

“Can you shut up and kiss me again?”

You wraps her in those glorious arms of hers and Yoshiko is dazzled by the mouth that finds hers. She’s still drunk and there’s still a chance to use the beer as a scapegoat and pretend none of this is happening, but she’s so happy she doesn’t care. She’s a little too happy.

“Ow,” You hisses. She pulls back a little and licks her bottom lip, which Yoshiko has just pinched between her teeth. She’s about to apologize, but she’s stopped by the gleam in You’s eyes.

“Car.”

“Car?”

“We need a car. Now.”

Yoshiko laughs, still relishing in the sensation of being held by this particular varsity asshole. “You’re going to have to reevaluate your standing with Kanan and Chika after tonight.”

“Dude, I hope after tonight that neither of us will even be able to stand.”

“Ok, but you’re really going to have to do something about that hat.”

–

She’s long given up on finding Ruby. She’s mildly disappointed that she can’t monopolize Ruby’s attention, but Hanamaru shakes it off. Her head is spinning. Actually, all of her is spinning. When did she find this barstool? She stops her rotations and snatches her unfinished mixed drink off the counter and guzzles it.

What to do oh what to do, though. She was running out of money and as she stared at the sudsy film at the bottom of her glass, she wonders if maybe she should stop.

As Mari would say, “momma didn’t raise no quitter”. Hanamaru slams the glass on the counter. “I’ll have another!” Another arrives promptly and as she starts spinning gleefully on her barstool, she notices the sashay of a familiar set of hips. She stumbles off her seat, wobbling much more than she had anticipated, and tumbles into Kanan.

“Whoa there, Maru-chan, where’d you come from?” Kanan’s speech is very slow and deliberate and she has an odd…salty sort of smell to her. Ah, she had just asked a question.

“When a mom and a dad like each other—

Kanan stops her before she can finish. Her hands smell like tequila and perfume, though none of the rest of her smells like perfume. Oh. “Where’s Mari?” she asks as soon as she realizes that their bodacious blonde friend was presently not so present.

“What do you mean where’s—goddammit! I swear I’m gonna get her a leash for Christmas.” Hanamaru quite likes that idea. She is about to suggest a studded collar when Kanan lets out an exasperated sigh. “And she has my phone.”

“Here, you can call her on mine,” Hanamaru says, fishing around in her pockets for her used Motorola.

“This is a toy.”

“I know it’s not fancy and shiny like yours but it works and when I dropped it in the blender—

“No, Hanamaru, this is literally a toy. Look at it.”

Hanamaru looks down and sure enough, in place of the clunky black stone that was once her phone was a bright pink hunk of plastic with colorful beads on the inside. “Ok, I’m really not able to explain this. I know I’m drunk, but this is some black magic.”

Kanan starts laughing and while doubled over with arms folded over her stomach, she says, “oh my god, that’s genius. Ruby switched out your phone. I’ve got to do that with Mari, she’s always losing hers.”

“Didn’t you say that she had your phone?”

“FUCK!”

“Do you want me to help you find her? I bet if we set up a trap and baited it with lemons and money we could catch her.”

Kanan sighs. “No, that’s ok. She’ll turn up and I really should trust that she can handle herself. Besides, she figured out how to get the lemons out of the last trap I set up.”

Hanamaru is distracted by the rattling of the toy in her hand and she turns it this way and that, absolutely enthralled as the little beads tumble around haphazardly. Kanan was evidently still talking, but Hanamaru could barely process the fact that this pink object had miraculously replaced her phone.

Suddenly the sensation of foreign hands around her hips forced her to focus on Kanan, who was marginally less interesting. “What are you doing?”

“Sorry, you were leaning really far to the left and I was worried you’d fall over.”

“I don’t like politics, but ok.”

“No, you were leaning.” As if realizing where her hands were, Kanan withdrew her arms hurriedly. She rubbed the back of her head and looked around the club nervously. “S-sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

Hanamaru grins devilishly. “Do I need to tell Mari that she’s not managing your appetite very well?”

“Oh be quiet, you goof,” Kanan snorts. “Do I need to tell Ruby that you literally cannot stand being away from her?”

Kanan looms fairly close. Her impressive height reminds Hanamaru of a Christmas tree and the stool she always has to stand on to put the star on the very top. Just as she’s imagining where she would hang baubles and tinsel, she notices a splotch on Kanan’s shirt. It looks kind of applesauce, but it’s a bit pinker and Hanamaru wonders how Kanan has had the luxury of eating applesauce at this time of night. Hanamaru decides she wants some. She reaches her hand out, fingers at the ready to commandeer a good portion, but her advance is halted by a firm hold on her wrist.

“You don’t want to do that.”

“What is it?”

“Everything I’ve eaten since dinner.”

Hanamaru wants to know what Kanan could’ve eaten that would dribble that weirdly on her shirt, because Kanan doesn’t seem the type to exclusively enjoy applesauce.

“I was on my way to my car to change. Did you want to come?”

If Hanamaru were to see Kanan without a shirt, she thinks she might.

“Yes.”

The two head outside. Kanan walks assuredly and Hanamaru trails behind her, stepping in drunken figure eights as Kanan tries to remember where she’s parked. She clicks a button on her keys several times until they both hear a loud chirping.

“Whoa,” Hanamaru says in amazement. In no time at all they locate Kanan’s car—a teal Subaru SUV. “It’s the future, zura!” As they approach, the sheer size of the vehicle dawns on Hanamaru and she jumps behind Kanan. “Y-you’re not gonna turn it on, are you?”

“No, I Just need to get my shirt out of the back seat.”

“Good. Let it sleep, zura.”

“Although,” Kanan begins as she starts peeling off her shirt. She hasn’t even opened the car door yet and she pulls her applesauced shirt over her head, dropping every jaw—Hanamaru’s included—in the vicinity. Hanamaru’s eyes shoot directly at Kanan’s boobs, which are impressively bigger than her own. They’re perfectly contained in Kanan’s lace bra, like two ethereal cantaloupes too good for this world. Hanamaru unabashedly pays homage to Kanan’s legendary Kanabs as though she’s made some great pilgrimage to a holy land and feels a tear form in her eye. “—that way Mari won’t drive recklessly.” Oh. Kanan has been talking this whole time.

“Wha?”

Still shirtless and likely without any inclinations of changing that fact, Kanan clambers into the front seat of her car in time for Hanamaru to ask just what the heck she’s doing.

“I’m going to move my car.”

As Hanamaru opens her mouth in preparation for the plethora of reasons why Kanan should not do that, the roar of the Subaru’s engine rattles her to her core and she has never turned around so quickly in her entire life. She abandons the memory of Kanan’s angel-sculpted body and makes a break for the club, herded by sheer terror. Hanamaru doesn’t look back.

–

Once she’s 1000% positive that she’s free of any bilious residue, Mari leaves the restroom. Kanan had wanted her to go to the car with her, but there was no way Mari was going anywhere until she was certain nothing had contaminated her. Kanan has no idea how lucky she is that Mari emerged immaculate.

She finds the bar again and sits down. An unfamiliar bump in her pocket reminds Mari that she has Kanan’s phone. She scrolls through the messages, finding nothing especially interesting in the contents or anything that she hasn’t already seen. She returns the phone to her pocket, but then thinks it would probably be better to put it in her purse where she’s less likely to lose it.

Where is her purse?

Che palle! She pushes herself off the chair and scans the floor around her, wishing she could just pat her lap and whistle for her purse to come running back to her. She tries to think where it could possibly be. The bathroom! She’s a genius. It had to be sitting on the bathroom by the mirror that she was all but pressed against trying to make sure she didn’t have anything regrettable on her.

It’s not.

Mari gives up. Her purse is gone for good. Lost in the clubbing void, never to dance again. Oh well. She still had Kanan’s phone. She could cancel all her credit cards and there wasn’t much cash in there—maybe like, a few hundred thousand yen. Meager.

She drags herself back to the bar and slumps over the counter top, exuding a depressing aura so powerful that even the bartender notices. He leans towards her with his arms folded just in front of her face in a sort of contrapose. Ugh. She doesn’t have time for his shit.

“Hey there, cutie, what’s got you down?”

“Sorry, Don Juan, I’m gay,” Mari snarls. The bartender’s chuckle catches her off guard.

“Yeah, I could tell that blue-haired girl who had her hand down your pants wasn’t looking for her keys.”

Mari has to laugh at that one. “I lost my purse,” she finally admits. “My cute pink purse with the seal keychain and the studs on the strap.”

“Oh, you mean this thing?” The bartender disappears beneath the counter and returns with the very same clutch Mari had just described. She can’t process it.

“That’s my purse!?” She’s almost doubtful that it’s truly her purse, but it even has her keychain from the aquarium that Kanan had gotten her when they’d gone years ago. Joy expands in her chest like a balloon and she grabs the bag from the bartender’s hands and hugs it. “How?”

“You must’ve done something to please the man upstairs because I’ve never heard of anybody dropping off a purse they’d found. She didn’t even take your wallet.”

Mari could scream she’s so happy. She slams her credit card on the counter. “Open up a tab, Juan! Drinks for everyone!”

Maybe it’s not the best use of her money, but she couldn’t care less. She’s rich. Whoever was responsible for reuniting Mari with her purse had to still be in the club and this was the best way Mari could repay them.

The bartender raises an eyebrow. “You do realize there’s probably over a hundred people in this club right now.”

“Give every one of them a shot of tequila! And then another! You know what…” She slaps another credit card on the table. “We’re gonna make this a real party.”

–

Mari’s voice splits through the air and Chika’s just amazed that it overpowers the club music. There’s a stampede leading to the bar in the farthest part of the room where Mari is—unsurprisingly—perched on top of the counter. She has what Chika can only discern as a bottle of booze in one hand and a fistful of glow sticks. She studies the overzealous blonde intensely before realizing what’s happening. Holy shit, Mari is handing out free drinks.

A tug at the hem of her shirt brings her attention back to Riko who is still straddling her leg expectantly. Chika feels the heat between Riko’s legs and wants desperately to take her then and there, but the call of anything free is mighty.

She compromises by trailing her tongue all along Riko’s neck, content to relish in how she squirms and digs her nails into Chika’s shoulders, but Chika is needed elsewhere. She’s not about to leave without a parting gift and bites greedily along Riko’s jawline.

“Be right back!” Chika tells a very aroused Riko as she slinks off in the pursuit of happiness. Beer. Same thing.

“I swear to god, Chika—“ she hears before she’s out of earshot. Riko will forgive her; Riko always forgives her.

Chika beelines over to where Mari is now dancing on top of the counter. She hasn’t seen Dia, or more accurately it doesn’t appear as if Dia has noticed and had the chance to rain furry—fury—upon all of them. That meant Dia was either currently murdering Kanan or she was getting some action. Chika hoped it was the latter because even though Dia was as intimidating as a grizzly bear juggling chainsaws that also happened to be on fire, she deserved to have a fun night.

She manages to push past the crowd and shimmies along the counter, passing the bartender on her way. He looks, for really lack of a better term, done. He stares blankly at Mari, as if losing a mental battle with himself to get her to come down.

On the other hand, Mari is wasted. Chika isn’t even all the way over to where she’s barely standing and she can tell that falling is a very real possibility. She looks around for the only person capable of containing Mari when she’s like this and she is nowhere to be found. Where the hell did Kanan go? Where is she ever?

“Mari, I can see your underwear from down here.”

“Fuck you.”

The response is expectedly curt, as Mari is absolutely shwasted, but Chika isn’t here to judge! She’s here for free drinks.

“So what can I get?”

“A job.”

“What?”

“Yoooou heard me,” Mari says, pointing the base of her bottle at Chika. She climbs down off the table, miraculously without injuring herself, and puts her hand on Chika’s shoulder. “Before I give you anything—hang on.” Mari turns back to the bartender who has started handing out drinks to every outstretched hand next to him. “Hey, DJ! I need two trays of tequila shots!”

“I’m a bartender, not your butler. And my name isn’t DJ.”

“I will slap 1000 yen across your face.”

“You can’t afford me.”

“2000.”

“Here’s your tequila.”

The mentioned tequila is suddenly shoved into Chika’s arms. Mari wants her to hand them out, but Chika doubts Mari even knows what color her own shirt is and she slips back into the crowd with her reward. She returns to Riko, who is still fuming where she left her.

“Babe, I brought you a bouquet,” she says, offering one of the trays to Riko. The girl blinks in surprise, but gladly accepts her gift. “Still mad?”

“Furious, but this is a good start.” She throws back a shot and Chika giggles as she scrunches her face from the taste.

“Can I provide or can I provide?”

“I suppose you’re worth keeping around, but we should finish these so your hands are free to do other things.”

Oh man, tonight’s going to be awesome.

–

“Can I just say I’ve dreamt of doing that to your ass since I first saw it bouncing down the hall in the science building?”

“What were you even doing in the science building?”

“Science.”

You finds a shirt thrust into her face. Three seconds later, something appears to click in Yoshiko’s head because immediately she alerts You that it’s Kanan’s shirt.

“This is Kanan’s car.” It’s not even a question.

“I know, isn’t this awesome? I can’t wait to see the look on her face.“

"How’d you get her keys?”

“Kanan has like, 6 spare keys. She’s gotta because Mari loses everything. She won’t miss it.”

“This is diabolical and I love it.”

“Dude, let’s send her a selfie. A sex selfie…a…sexfie.”

“Stop before you hurt yourself.” Yoshiko leans into her regardless, halting her train of thought as her bare shoulder presses into her. She fumbles around for her phone and snaps a quick picture. It’s not after she’s sent it that she realizes the flash isn’t even on. Yoshiko lets her take another picture before slumping back into the seat.

There’s hardly any light from the sparse streetlights so You can’t really appreciate Yoshiko’s body the way she wants to. Her head is still fuzzy and she probably won’t remember in the morning how awesome she’s feeling right now.

You wants to run her hands along Yoshiko’s sides, but there’s a little bubble of doubt that forms in her chest. The silence that’s now fallen between them makes her ears sensitive to little sounds like the faint bass from the club, distant chatter and the gentle drum of cars coming and going from the parking lot. You sits properly in the back seat, left to deal with discomforting guilt blooming in her chest and the waning bliss of afterglow. She’s still not confident enough to expect that Yoshiko is just too drunk to care about what they’re doing.

“You?” Yoshiko’s voice is a welcome beacon that blasts through the silence. “What are you doing?”

Unfortunately, she can’t really formulate a response. “I don’t know.”

“Do you just, like, fuck and run?”

You’s body gets hot. She understand the implication quickly enough. “What do you want?” Oh no. It comes out accusatory when she means it to be sincere and she doesn’t need to see the subtle changes in Yoshiko’s face to know she fucked up.

“Listen—

There’s fire in Yoshiko’s voice and You stops her quickly. “No, no—like, what do you want me to do?”

Yoshiko simmers down. “Oh…” There’s a brief pause. “For starters, I’m cold as fuck. Could you put your inhuman body heat to good use and lie next to me or something?”

You chuckles. “You mean cuddle?”

“No. Share body heart through close physical contact. Very different.”

“Ok, I’ll see what I can do.”

Yoshiko’s skin is pale, even in what little light there is to be able to tell. You situates herself as best as she can in the seat and Yoshiko ends up having to lie largely on top of her. She experiences Yoshiko’s body in a new way. Her body’s not very curvaceous or thick in the ways that might normally catch You’s attention, but she appreciates how slender Yoshiko’s frame is. They don’t fit together perfectly—not well at all, honestly—and that’s fine. You is barely taller than Yoshiko.

“So…when we’re both sober…what’s gonna happen?”

“Kanan’s going to execute me.”

The sound of Yoshiko snorting breathes life into You’s lungs. “Idiot, I meant about us. Are we dating now? Can we hold hands and make out without being shitfaced?”

“If you’re cool with being attached to the best looking varsity athlete on campus.”

“Don’t make me offer you as a ritual sacrifice to Beelzebub.”

“Ooooh, three-way!”

Yoshiko shoves Kanan’s shirt into You’s face again, but it doesn’t keep her from laughing hysterically. They lie together for a moment and You adjusts to the sensation of holding Yoshiko in her arms. She can smell her shampoo, which is sweet like candy. The taste of Yoshiko’s mouth lingers on You’s tongue. They kissed a lot before, so she finds familiarity in the flavor of strawberry lip balm and beer.

As You basks in the sugary splendor of her new girlfriend, the driver’s side door flings open and in hops Kanan. You and Yoshiko freeze. Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit. You finally gets a girlfriend and now she’s about to die. They both instinctively cover each other’s mouths, which would’ve been too cute to not point out had they not entered a gantlet of destruction.

Kanan doesn’t notice them and You prays to every god she can think of for Kanan to not look in the back seat. She’s not ready to die yet. She’d go to church, she’d donate money to charity, and she’d throw out all her porn. Some of it. One video. She omits porn from the list.

Kanan starts the car and they begin moving. Where the fuck is she going. She glances at Yoshiko and tries to mouth an inquiry, but it’s too dark. They can’t be leaving because Mari isn’t here. What the fuck is happening? Why is Kanan driving—SHE SHOULDN’T BE DRIVING.

They finally stop and Kanan gets out of the car and the gods answer You’s prayers when she doesn’t look in the back seat. You’s glad she didn’t swear on throwing out her porn. Wait, why does she hear water.

“She’s gone.” Yoshiko clambers to the window and gasps as soon as she peers outside. “Oh your god.”

“What? What?” You shoots up and joins her at the window. Her jaw drops. “She parked in the fucking ocean.”

–

Riko is more than aware of how completely inappropriate this is, but she doesn’t care. She does wonder to what degree she tastes like tequila and long island iced tea, but however much it is, Chika seems fine with the amount. Chika’s tongue is in her mouth, reflecting nothing but cheap beer and disproportionally expensive tequila. Clawed hands invade her skirt, squeezing at her thighs and other unmentionable areas. Chika goes at her like an animal and Riko loves how easily she’s taken out of breath.

They part and Chika uses this pause to brush Riko’s hair behind her ear. Riko giggles as Chika’s fingers tickle her cheeks, prompting a deeply affectionate grin. Riko melts in the heat of Chika’s smolder, absolutely head over heels for the way she’s looking at Riko like she’s the most beautiful girl in the entire club. Maybe she is.

“How are you?” Chika asks, most likely in reference to the plate of tequila shots they somehow managed to finish. She’s past the feathery feeling of being drunk and the suggestion of not operating heavy machinery. If not for Chika, she’d probably be on the ground. “Do you want some water? Orange juice? A banana?” Chika’s concern is heartwarming.

“I’m ok,” Riko replies, content to ride Chika’s lap for the rest of the night. For the rest of her natural life at this point, but a wild tingle between her legs ruins the dream. “I…actually, I have to pee.”

“Oh, ok. Let me help you up.” Chika is already holding her as they abandon their shared bar stool. Riko’s legs wobble and she invariably falls back on Chika who catches her as easily as one would a child. Riko is decently taller than Chika, but Chika is fuller in frame. Her grip on Riko’s wrist and waist is absolute.

They begin the awkward waltz to the bathroom with Riko desperately trying to keep herself from toppling over and taking Chika down with her. In spite of being Riko’s pillar, Chika isn’t in that better of condition. Riko thanked god for walls, which she’s done before but in completely different context.

Upon making it to the bathroom, Riko is disheartened to see a crowd of more girls than she can count in her current state. She pinches Chika’s arm. “Chika…I really have to go.” Her knight in glowing neon tank top steps forward, chest puffed out.

“I got you,” she says coolly before glaring at the armada of girls. “Alright, everybody in here that’s not sitting on a toilet using it needs to get out of my girlfriend’s way.” A few girls look at her, but nobody moves. Chika clears her throat. “I’m going to kick the fucking doors down and if you’re not doing anything that can’t be done in the back seat of a car then you’re gonna have a bad time.” A stall door swings open and two girls tiptoe out the bathroom, smoothing out their dresses and hair along the way. Chika keeps the door open and welcomes Riko inside.

“I love you.”

“You’re powered up, get in there.”

When Riko finishes, Chika is waiting outside the stall door grinning madly with her phone in her hands and there’s tears in her eyes. Before Riko can even ask what she’s doing, she shows her the screen. It’s black.

“What—

“Swipe to the right.”

She swipes and sees You and Yoshiko, stark naked, smiling into the camera. Her face flushes and Chika holds her stomach as she cackles uncontrollably. Riko can barely read right now, but she notices the caption.

“They—

“FUCKED IN THE BACK OF KANAN’S CAR. I’M DYING.”

Riko starts a slow chuckle, but soon enough she’s propping herself up on the stall door to keep from falling out on the floor. Oh my god. She can’t believe it—well she can, and that’s the best part. She’s never laughed so hard in her life. The amount of effort it takes to stay on their feet isn’t worth it and they both decide to sit next to each other along the wall in the bathroom.

“I’m so happy for Yoshiko,” Riko says when they can finally breathe. “She’s been trying so hard to get You to notice her.”

“I’ve been wondering when it was going to finally happen,” Chika admits. “They’re always hanging onto each other when we go out.”

“Maybe You finally got tired of thirdwheeling when I come over.”

“Nah, You loves hanging out with us!”

“Chika.”

“Mmm, I guess you’re right. It was getting kind of awkward knowing she was in the other room whenever we were fooling around.”

Chika creeps her hand over to Riko’s knee, her palms hot and inviting. “Well,” she begins as she leans in to kiss Riko’s neck. Either it’s on purpose or she slips, but Chika crashes into Riko and now they’re back into a fit of laughter. Chika never finishes her sentence and Riko’s fine with that.

–

Hanamaru is not where she left her, but Ruby isn’t surprised. She can’t even be annoyed—this was bound to happen. Instead of going to search for her, which would be like finding a hamster in a haystack, Ruby leans against the wall outside of the bathroom. She withdraws a secret juice box from her purse and pops in the tiny straw. Mmm…she couldn’t understand why people would guzzle nasty beer when they could sip on some tasty juice.

Oh! She spots Chika and Riko has they happen by her, but they don’t notice her waving at them and are soon lost in the crowd. Ruby shrinks in the sea of people, but because she’s promised to enjoy herself she will do just that! She’s determined to have a good time…even if she’s entirely by herself. Dancing alone makes her feel weird, but she’s sure as heck not going to ask a stranger to dance with her.

She drains the last of her juice and crumples it in her hands with purpose and puts it back in her purse so she doesn’t litter. As she’s about to head out onto the dance floor, she hears Mari shouting angrily somewhere. Finding her is simple because she’s on top of a table and Ruby sighs internally. She’s yelling at the bartender for some reason, but Ruby isn’t close enough to hear what the quarrel is about. There’s no security tackling Mari off the table this time, so maybe it’s safe to head over. Mari is better than nobody.

“Pretty bomber head!” Mari shouts at her and Ruby gets a pretty good feel for how drunk she is when she nearly steps off the bar counter.

“Hi, Mari!” Ruby’s just glad to have someone to talk to. “What are you doing?”

“God’s work, but Juan,” Mari turns back towards the bartender and yells, “Is obstructing my holy endeavors!”

“Lady, my name isn’t Juan and we’re out of everything.”

“Produce more!”

“THERE IS NONE.”

“WHY NOT?”

“BECAUSE YOU GAVE IT ALL AWAY. MAYBE IF YOU DIDN’T GIVE PEOPLE OUT ON THE STREETS FREE DRINKS THERE’D BE MORE.”

Ruby backs away slowly as the two continue to hash it out. Nope. She decides that Mari is not better than nobody. She catches what she thinks might be Kanan’s blue ponytail heading out the door, but she can’t really do anything about it. Riko and Chika have dissolved into the sea of people. Mari is on the table, Hanamaru has probably gotten stepped on, You and Yoshiko are more than likely doing…things…together. That just left Dia.

Being able to spend the rest of the night with Dia was an exciting thought. Dia didn’t usually drink in excess so they would be able to speak like functioning adults with each other! She scoured the crowd for Dia’s hair pins and blouse for a while before she finally found her somewhere along the outer ring of the building. Relieved, she rushed on over and called out to her sister. Then she noticed a girl behind Dia who was standing very close to her and—and had her hands on Dia’s hips? Oh my god. OH MY GOD.

They were kissing! The other girl, whoever she might’ve been, was a head taller than Dia with beautiful, long blonde hair. Ruby saw a flash of tongue that sent her gaze elsewhere—a plastic cup on the dancefloor being trampled on. When she had the courage to look back, she found them still investigating each other hungrily.

Before she can slink away into the protective cover of infinite darkness, the girl sees Ruby staring at them and alerts Dia who turns around and greets her sister with a surprised smile. It’s too late. She’s been discovered. She has to pretend like this isn’t the single most horrific moment in her entire life and Ruby approaches the two with all the fluidity of a walking Barbie doll.

“You must be Ruby,” the girl says loudly over the pulse of the club. “I can tell by the,” she points at her own head and Ruby guesses she means hair. Why not just say hair? That does alert Ruby to something, however. As she’s forced to look at this stranger who, just moments ago, was giving Dia an unprofessional physical exam, she can’t help but feel like she’s seen this person before.

“Yes! This is my adorable little sister,” Dia says, hooking Ruby and pulling her close. “She takes after Dad, but she definitely got all of Mom’s cuteness.” Dia complementing her this vigorously means she’s very, very drunk.

“So you’re the youngest, eh? Well your sister’s really cool. She reminds me a lot of mine.” As the blonde girl laughs, Ruby is struck with a sudden epiphany and she nearly collapses on the spot. She’s about to have a heart attack.

Ruby turns to Dia, who’s still singing her praises. “Dia, do you know who this is?” she hisses into her ear.

“My ride home. I’m glad you found me.”

“Do you know her name?”

“Mm…she told me earlier. Alice or something. But, ah, as much as I love seeing you I really want to…you know…get back to this.”

Ruby doesn’t know how to handle the situation. She’s unprepared. Blankly, she nods to her sister and begins to walk away. She hears the girl calling out to her. “It was nice meeting you, Ruby! I’ll take good care of your sister!”

Good care. Ruby shudders at the thought, but her brain is fried. Dia’s obviously too drunk to know whose hands she’s in and she can only imagine what it’s going to be like for her in the morning when she realizes she’s slept with Arisa Ayase.

Afflicted by an odd mixture of star struck and disgust, Ruby finds a table and sits down. She can’t text Hanamaru because she has her phone. She texts Kanan and immediately receives a blurry selfie of Mari with the caption “th sis is M ar I and Knadnn left ne with eh rpohe”. Chika doesn’t reply, which means it’s not worth texting Riko. She gets “busy” from You and also Yoshiko. Ruby concedes that her only option is to live out this episode of the Twilight Zone at this little round table.

She wishes she had more juice.


	3. Omake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ruby deals with drunks and Dia realizes she’s made a huge mistake. Dia is going to Die-a.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Every good story deserves an omake.

It’s closing time at last and people stagger out of the club, many requiring assistance from the bouncers to keep upright. Ruby takes advantage of the waning crowd and quickly relocates Hanamaru standing on her tiptoes to see the bartender over the counter. She’s demanding applesauce for whatever reason, but the moment she sees Ruby she latches onto her.

Next, they move to locate Chika and Riko, but Hanamaru mentions that she saw them leave already and that they should look for Kanan first because her shirt is off. When they do locate Kanan, she’s not shirtless and is scolding Mari for any one of the 400 reasons she should be scolding her. Since nobody can locate either You or Yoshiko in the club, they agree to start heading to Kanan’s car because it’s the only one that can fit all of them comfortably at this point.

“Where the fuck is it?” Kanan asks, clicking her keys to locate it.

They scour the parking lot and find no trace of the Subaru anywhere. They do find You and Yoshiko, however. Both are shivering and soaking wet.

“Hey,” You says nonchalantly.

“Did you go for a swim?” Mari asks sarcastically and they’re honestly surprised when You says yes.

“Well, there’s a story for that,” Yoshiko says through chattering teeth. “It starts with Kanan and ends with her parking in the goddamn ocean.”

Kanan is forcibly separated from her keys. Ruby manages to fit them all neatly in her car without having to put anybody in the trunk like last time. Mari’s ridiculous legs have to go in the front seat and Hanamaru wants to sit on her lap, but Ruby makes her lie down on top of You, Yoshiko, and Kanan in the back. A compromise she accepts gladly.

On the way back to Ruby’s place, their progress is halted when Mari demands McDonald’s. She finally gets her way when she offers to pay for everybody and Ruby feels better about the night when she is fed a handful of hot, delicious fries. Nobody cares that Kanan’s car is being pulled into the sea and they finally end the night.

True to form, Ruby is the first one to wake up. The reward for her sobriety is being able to see Hanamaru’s cute sleeping face. With her cheek squished over her arm, she kind of looks like a chipmunk and Ruby giggles before giving her a gentle kiss. A hacksaw probably wouldn’t wake Hanamaru up, but Ruby is still considerate when she slips out of the bed.

In her attempted inconspicuousness, she steps on Kanan and falls on top of Yoshiko and the commotion wakes everybody up. Mari launches a pillow across the room as she swears in Italian, You rolls under the bed and Hanamaru tries to bury herself in the blankets. They simmer down when they realize it’s Ruby. After dismissing her apologies and telling her it’s alright, nobody’s mad—they’ve learned from Dia to be nice to Ruby or die.

The moment Ruby mentions that she wants to make everyone breakfast, Kanan forces herself off the floor and follows her into the kitchen like a zombie. Ruby has never seen her with her hair down and she thinks for a moment that it’s probably for the best because Kanan’s hair is everywhere. Her eyes are barely open and she usurps Ruby’s command over breakfast. She mumbles something incoherent and cracks an egg into the sink.

“Kanan, it’s fine. Let me do this.”

“No.”

“Can’t I at least—

“I’m Dad.”

Ruby manages to get Kanan to sit down at the table and it’s only because Kanan isn’t awake enough to know that the eggs she’s frying are a Tupperware lid and a spatula. The smell of coffee draws in Mari, who, to put it nicely, looks like the creature from the Black Lagoon. Her makeup is smeared in all the wrong places on her face and her hair is a tangle of spaghetti.

“Coffee.”

Mari plops next to Kanan at the table. These two are veterans of the party game and they’re able to function a bit more than the others. Mari’s the first to speak coherently, but that only happens after a full cup of coffee.

“Did Dia actually find somebody drunk enough to want to take her home?” Mari snickers, expecting the way Ruby puffs her cheeks whenever she says something mean about Dia. “Well, lucky her.” Lucky her indeed. Ruby keeps the secret to herself.

Kanan is still patting the Tupperware lid with the spatula when Ruby puts a large bowl of rice and eggs in front of them. By the time she brings in the miso soup, Mari has consumed half of it. Kanan perks up after Mari eases bits of egg into the corner of her mouth. After she chokes on them, anyway.

Hanamaru is next to enter the kitchen and she looks—and this is more than likely out of Ruby’s extremely biased opinion—adorable. Her pajama pants are twisted on her frame and somehow the right leg is hiked up to her knee. Ruby can’t help but smile at her as she teeters in, yawning and complaining that she’s cold.

“Come stand with me by the stove,” Ruby offers and Hanamaru stumbles over and rests her chin on Ruby’s shoulder. “Better?”

“Yeah,” Hanamaru says groggily. “But you’re the better heater, zura.”

“Christ, can you two get a room?” Mari pipes. “Your excessive PDA is offensive.”

“We have a room,” Hanamaru says immediately. “You’re in it.”

Mari looks offended and Kanan chuckles into her bowl of soup. Hanamaru returns to nuzzling into the crook of Ruby’s neck. “Speaking of PDA, have you heard from Chika?”

“No, but Hanamaru said she and Riko left the club before we did. I wouldn’t worry about them.”

“By the way, do you still have my phone, Mari?”

It’s a miracle that she does. Mari is worse than Hanamaru at losing things, but sure enough she produces Kanan’s phone from her purse.

“Oh hey, there’s two texts from You.”

Suddenly they hear You shouting from the other room, “WAIT.” There’s a loud thud as You hits her head on the bottom frame of Ruby’s bed. “DON’T TOUCH THEM.”

Kanan screams.

–

Her head feels like it’s going to crack open and she’s not even fully awake. Light pierces rudely through her fluttering eyelids and she rips the blankets over her face.

“Oh, you’re awake!”

That’s not Ruby’s voice.

Dia peeks out from the covers and squeaks as she’s greeted by a scantily clad stranger. She blinks a few times to get adjusted to the sunlight that filters through the blinds in what appears to be a large bedroom. She recognizes the blonde stranger as the girl she met at the bar and—oh wow, Dia is naked under these sheets. Her cheeks suffer an uncomfortably warm surge.

She forces a “good morning” out from her throat, which is sore for whatever reason. She knows the answer, but she has to ask. “Did we…?”

“We did,” the girl answers sweetly. She sits at the foot of the bed and slips on a pair of pants. “I hope it’s ok, but I went ahead and washed your clothes. They should be dry soon and I have some spare pajamas you can wear in the meantime.”

At first, she’s too distracted by the way her host’s bare back arches forward as she introduces her legs to her pants, but Dia forces a response out of her increasingly dry throat. “That’s fine.” She tries not to cough, but her morning voice rattles in her throat. “Thank you very much.”

The girl flashes a smile that makes Dia too aware that she’s still not wearing any clothes, so she’s overjoyed when she’s presented with the promised bundle of clothing. Her host mentions breakfast before exiting the bedroom and Dia doesn’t even care that she’s putting on a stranger’s underwear because at least she’s not naked anymore.

Everything is too big. It’s a matching white top and bottom with thin, blue horizontal stripes that make Dia feel like she’s wearing pinstripe suit. The legs pool at her feet and her hands are completely devoured by the sleeves. She doesn’t bother embarrassing herself with the bra.

“I hope I’m not imposing,” Dia says as she reunites with her host. She doesn’t know what to do at this point. The extent of her game plan the night prior was to get laid, which she honestly hadn’t expected to achieve. Score 1 for her.

“Not at all!” the girl replies with that heart slapping grin of hers. She’s sitting at a small white table and pats the seat beside her, an offer that Dia gladly indulges. “Did you have a good night?”

Dia’s laugh is embarrassingly involuntary, but her host doesn’t appear offended. “Well, I definitely did. You were…um…” Dia pauses as pieces of their bedroom activities flood into her mind and her skin prickles. The more she thinks about it, the more she wants to do it all again. “You were great.”

“That’s always good to hear. I am impressed that you can still walk so effortlessly.”

Dia doesn’t feel that thanking her is appropriate—actually, she has a better idea. “We can change that, if you want.”

The penetrating blue eyes that Dia keeps losing herself in flicker excitedly, letting her know that her request is positively received. Neither must lean very far before the tips of their noses brush against one another.

“Honestly, seeing you in my clothes is kind of driving me crazy.”

“They don’t really fit.”

“If that’s the case, we can always take them off.”

“I’m entirely fine with that.”

Dia lets herself be hoisted off the tiny barstool and sat on top of the table so her partner can have better access. The blonde begins by nipping at Dia’s exposed collarbone and all along her neck, which Dia responds to with what little vocal strength she has. Dia helps with undoing the buttons on her shirt and as her bare chest meets the cool air of the kitchen, it occurs to her through some strange trail of thoughts that she has completely forgotten what this girl’s name even is. Oh well. She’s not going to interrupt this to ask.

Just as she’s being pushed onto her back and Dia runs through a list of every god she can think of to thank for her current position, the girl pauses her ministrations.

“As much as I would love to finish what we’re doing, I do kind of have to meet my sister in an hour and if I get started I’m not going to want to stop.”

Fuck. Fuck everything—the list of gods to thank becomes a list of gods that she will not be offering anything to in the upcoming year. In this moment, half naked and splayed out on the table in the ultimate display of indecency, Dia Kurosawa wants to die.

“I’m really sorry.”

“I-it’s ok.” It’s definitely not ok. Watching that beautifully sculpted, porcelain face draw away from her is the most painful experience of Dia’s young life. The blonde wanders to the counter where her phone is charging and Dia is left to wonder who the fuck her sister thinks she is.

“We’ve had this brunch scheduled for weeks. She and I haven’t seen each other in a long time, so I’d hate to cancel on her. Having a sister, I’m sure you understand.”

Dia is forced by reason to agree. “What’s your sister’s name? I spent so much time talking about Ruby I don’t think I ever asked.” At least with knowing her name, Dia’s cursing can be more effective.

“Her name is Eli.”

The name takes a moment to register before it slaps her across the face. And then it’s as if a Jenga tower has collapsed in Dia’s brain. Her entire body goes rigid and she swears she can feel the early onset of cardiac arrest. Suddenly the air is ripped from her lungs as all the dots connect—the blonde hair, the blue eyes, the older sister.

Oh.

Oh shit.

A lump forms in her throat and she hopes she chokes to death on it to spare her from the maelstrom of pain that she is now surely slated for. She asks a question, this time fearing the answer against the very weight of her own life. “What’s your last name?”

“Ayase.”

Eli Ayase is one of the most popular models and singers in the area. Dia buys all of her magazines and CD’s and may or may not have a small shrine dedicated to her immeasurable beauty and elegance. The mother and father that blessed the earth with Eli also had a second child. Though not nearly as big of a celebrity as her sister, Arisa Ayase is still commonly known and respected.

As an older sister, Dia knows how irrevocably fucked she is. Her penguin fantasy reemerges as possibly the only way she will be able to survive another day in this world. She looks down at her hands and then again at the girl she’s with and squeaks with fright.

She just slept with her number one idol’s little sister.

“Oh,” Arisa suddenly says as Dia is imploding. “Well, I’m putting you in a really awkward position, but my sister is already here.”

Dia is already screaming as the front door opens.


End file.
